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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29922441">Late Nights with Peter</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Granolabird/pseuds/Granolabird'>Granolabird</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, WandaVision (TV), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Author Is Sleep Deprived, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, M/M, Rude of AO3 to assume they're not, Self-Insert, Sleepy Cuddles, Technically they're different people, This is Peter content not Pietro!!, Why are both Peter and Pietro under the same tag it's unfair, i wrote this during a mental breakdown</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:13:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,376</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29922441</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Granolabird/pseuds/Granolabird</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's late, and Peter starts overthinking things. It's your job to remind him how much everyone cares about him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Maximoff/Reader, Pietro Maximoff/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>53</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Late Nights with Peter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I created this during a 1 AM mental breakdown. Yes I'm ok. No I'm not happy about the Bohner incident. I resolved to write this little soft fic in the midst of my breakdown and my friends demanded I post it because apparently it's "Too good to live in my google docs for the rest of it's life". So uh, take that as you will. If you enjoy the fic thanks if you don't still thanks because at least you looked at it</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s late, and I’m half asleep. The tv drones on, displaying some horror movie I can’t recognise past sleep-bleary eyes. Beside me sits Peter, my head resting lightly on his side as I slowly pass out. He doesn’t notice, or if he does, he doesn’t seem to care, only focused on watching the movie and seeing how many marshmallows he can fit in his mouth at once. From what I can tell, it’s at least ten. I adjust myself slightly, snuggling closer to him, and he looks over eyes wide. “Hey, are you still awake?” He speed-chews the marshmallows before he asks, giving me a small nudge. “Barely.” I huff and he gives a small chuckle. “You need me to run you upstairs?” He offers and I shake my head as well as I can from the position I’m in, curled up on the couch. “I’m too comfy. You make a good pillow.” He smiles and presses a soft kiss to the top of my head. “As much as I appreciate the compliment, I think it’s time we get you to bed. I don’t know how long I could stay still, even as your honorary pillow.” He reaches over and presses a button on the converter to turn the tv off, before scooping me up, bridal-style. “Fiiine.” I lament knowing it’s too late to try and stay on the couch, seeing as I’m already in his arms. He grins, before running us up to the bedroom and placing me swiftly under the covers, then following suit. </p><p>He snuggles close to me, laying one arm over my side as I press into his warm chest. “How did I get so lucky to find someone like you?” I ask, my words muffled in his baggy sleep-shirt. “I could say the same about you.” He sighs, running a hand through my hair. We’re quiet for a moment, but he doesn’t stop moving his hand through my hair slowly. “Hey, I know it’s late but can… can I ask you something?” His words are uncharacteristically quiet and I look up from his chest, searching his face to figure out what he’s thinking. Peter is notorious for late-night pondering of the worst kind. After everything he’s been through, I can’t blame him. “Anything.” I offer in response, but he doesn’t smile this time, he just keeps petting my head lightly. “This is kind of weird, but do you think the guys back at the school care about me?” He questions, and I lift my head to meet his eyes. “What?” I shake my head, a little confused and still sleepy, and he takes a moment to ponder. “It’s just that, I go on all these missions, I do all this work to help them, and they just… keep going. They don’t thank me, they don’t pay me any mind, and then they go off for drinks after the mission and half the time they don’t even ask me to join them. I’m just a comic relief to them, I think. What if they leave me? My dad left me, Logan left all of us, I’ve never had anyone stay as long as you have really, so who’s to say you won’t leave too? Shit, I don’t know, maybe I just need to go to sleep.” His anxiety seems to grow with every word he says, and his eyes are staring off into somewhere far away. His hand has stopped moving across my hair now and it falls softly onto the bed. </p><p>“Peter.” I say, lifting a hand to his cheek to snap him out of his daze. “I do think you need to go to sleep, your mind goes much too fast.” I huff out, before continuing. “But they care about you, I can promise you that. Scott told me the other day that you’re one of his best friends. Did you know that?” I offer, and Peter tips his head slightly, leaning into my hand. “He did?” “Yeah, he did. And you know why they don’t invite you to drink with them. You can’t-” “Get drunk.” He finishes my sentence for me, a gleam shining in his eyes. “But it was pretty funny when I got the video of Kurt drunk off his ass, wailing ABBA on karaoke night.” His sense of humor is returning, and I grin up at him. “He’s never going to forgive you for that one.” I chuckle, moving my hand from his cheek so that it can grip his free hand. He chuckles too, and I feel warmth light up my chest. “And Peter, you know I’d never leave you.” “I know.” He responds almost immediately, pressing his face into the top of my head. “I know, I just get worried sometimes. I’ve lost so many people. Been through so much shit that it just...” He trails off, his words muffled against my hair. “The others on the team care about you Peter, everyone does. You’re basically a son to Charles, and your dad? Who gives two shits about him, the dickhead is a mass murderer. He doesn’t deserve you.” I tell him, and he lifts his face to look at me again. </p><p>“Hey! That's my father you’re talking about!” He exclaims quietly, but the light in his eyes tells me he’s joking. “He may be your father, but he’s still an asshole. The only good thing he’s ever done is bring you into this world.” I say sternly. “I don’t know, that time he killed the president was pretty awesome.” He offers, and I force myself to put on the most fed-up face my exhausted brain can create. He laughs fully now, and I feel his chest rumbling as he goes. “Why are you laughing.” I huff, trying my best to sound annoyed despite the smile pressing at my lips. “Because you look so damn cute when you try to look mad at me.” He whispers, and I sigh letting my smile come through and shaking my head. “You’re such a ladies man.” I say mockingly, and he grins at me. “I know, right?” Peter lets another chuckle escape him, before he leans himself down to kiss me. It’s not intense but rather light, soft and subtle, as he uses the one arm he has thrown around me to somehow pull me even closer. I lean into him, and we rest against each other's lips for a long while, just enjoying the presence of one another. </p><p>I feel him smiling against my mouth, before he pulls back and looks over me, eyes tracing my face. “I love you.” He says, and I laugh and bury my head in his shirt again. It smells like marshmallows and faint cologne that reminds me of an autumn breeze. It reminds me of home. Peter, my love, my sweet, my everything. You are my home. I don’t voice any of this though, and instead opt for  “You smell like marshmallows.” He responds by half-heartedly kicking me under the blanket. “Wow, thanks. I feel so loved right now.” He grumbles, and I look back up to him. “I love you too you big goof. I’d probably love you a lot more if you just let me sleep.” I tell him, and he sighs, letting his head flop on his pillow. “Right sorry, I forgot you’re little miss sleeping beauty. Remind me to wake you up in the morning with a kiss?” He jokes, and I press my face back against his chest. “I know you won’t need the reminder.” I tell him as I settle myself into a comfortable position to sleep in. “You’re right.” He mumbles, and I can tell he’s getting tired too. He adjusts himself, his one arm still flung around me and trying, to no avail, to bring me even closer. Then, Peter settles my head in the crook of his neck, and sighs, clearly feeling comfortable. “Goodnight.” He says, and I smile into his chest. “Goodnight Peter, I’ll see you in the morning.” I tell him, before fading into the lull of sleep. 

I’m not sure what I dream about, but somewhere running through my dreams I know there is a handsome silver-haired man, who owns my heart, and I know I am loved.</p>
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